


DEPROGRAMING

by AcaWiedersehen



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, root x shaw - Freeform, sameen x root
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcaWiedersehen/pseuds/AcaWiedersehen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Technology is taking over our world in both a literal and metaphorical sense. <br/>Some of it is good.<br/>Some of it bad.<br/>...There are even a few cases of it being neither. <br/>In these middle spots, technology can still affect the user. Hurt them, help them, make them fall apart, or make them pick up the pieces. Shaw is stuck in this middle spot, between two different technologies. <br/>She's confused, and being torn between ideologies and principles is really starting to take its toll.</p><p>[Set after the conclusion of Season 4, and my personal ideals of Season 5.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. [ERROR]

**Author's Note:**

> [ERROR_DEVICE_UNREACHABLE]  
> 321 (0x141)  
> [The device is unreachable.]
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains the semi-graphic torturing of a major character.

**DEPROGRAMING**  
Sylvia Buford, an associate of Ted Patrick who has assisted him on many deprogramming’s, described five stages of deprogramming:  
1\. Discredit the figure of authority: the cult leader  
2\. Present contradictions (ideology versus reality)  
3\. The breaking point: When a subject begins to listen to the deprogrammer; when reality begins to take precedence over ideology.  
4\. Self-expression: When the subject begins to open up and voice gripes against the cult.  
5\. Identification and transference: when the subject begins to identify with the deprogrammers, starts to think as an opponent of the cult rather than as a member.

* * *

 

 **ERROR_FILE_EXISTS**  
80 (0x50)  
_The file exists._

Dead eyes, if only for a moment, spark out of amusement. “You’re not going to share?”  
Martine was going to enjoy this. Though, so far, the process has felt nothing but painstakingly slow and tedious.

Still, she waits.

“No? I guess not. We can’t have you be responsible for what happens to your little girlfriend. Can we?” She pauses a moment, trying to wrap the next question around her tongue. “And why is that? You have an Axis II Antisocial Personality Disorder. You shouldn’t be able to feel anything for them anyways. Nor should you care.”

“… **I’m still human**.”

“Oh, Sameen. If that’s called being human, it looks like we’re going to have to turn you into a _machine_.”

 

 **ERROR_OPERATION_IN_PROGRESS**  
329 (0x149)  
_An operation is currently in progress with the device._

Sameen had always told people she "liked" pain. She always told people she accepted torture; hell, that she even enjoyed it. But _this_? This was **insane** as much as it was **inhumane**.

  
“A few years ago a rumor was going around about a sort of mind control drug. It was, supposedly, being used in places around South America.” Martine flicks her head to the right, gently removing the hair from the spots framing her cheek… if only for a moment, as it immediately falls back into place. “ _Burundanga_. Have you heard of it?”

Shaw’s jaw clenches as she gently pulls up on the restraints around her wrists. “Of course I have,” she spits. “It’s known for creating one of the most well-known hoaxes, to date, involving susceptibility during interrogation.”

Martine grants a smile permission to appear on her features, and she nods slowly- taking in Shaw’s current behaviors. “...You’re _almost_ correct.”

Shaw’s face visibly contorts into an expression of confusion as she becomes thrown off by the woman’s words.

Reaching over towards the small tray of tools to her right, Martine grabs a syringe filled with a cloudy liquid. It’s small, but it definitely throws Sameen for a loop. She knows, for a fact, that she had read in a _college-course textbook_ that this was something that **shouldn’t** work…

The noirette gulps.

_Unless…_

“It’s concentrated,” she comments as if she had read the Persian’s mind. “…And it’s in a syringe, so it’ll definitely go into your bloodstream. And while you may be right about it being a hoax _in certain cases_ , it’ll do wonders here.” She leans forward, placing her cold fingers onto the soft inner flesh of Sameen’s elbow, and then pushes- beginning her search for a sweet spot.

 

 **ERROR_DIR_NOT_ROOT**  
144 (0x90)  
_The directory is not a subdirectory of the root directory._

“Where. Is. The. Machine?”

Thoughts, useless and empty, are swimming around within Shaw’s mind. She has seemingly little to no control at this point, and it hurts her to admit. So she doesn’t.  
“ **Go to hell.** ”

A split second later a jolt of electricity surges through her entire being.  
One word, one name, is on her mind.  
…The name of the girl who had shocked her, multiple times, just like this.

_Root._

 

 **ERROR_FILE_CHECKED_OUT**  
220 (0xDC)  
_This file is checked out or locked for editing by another user._

“You know; your Harold Finch is no different than HR.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“He’s a pitiful man… afraid to get his hands dirty.” Martine’s unfaltering northern accent soaks into every spoken syllable she has to offer. “But he’s smart. Smart enough to do his dirty work for him.”

Shaw bares her teeth between thin lips, “ _you’re wrong_.”

 

 **ERROR_DISK_RESOURCES_EXHAUSTED**  
314 (0x13A)  
_The physical resources of this disk have been exhausted._

Shaw can feel herself withering away.  
It feels as if they’ve been at this for months, when in fact it has only been days. Maybe weeks. Samaritan had tried multiple techniques on her; but now they were starting to get creative. They’d mix techniques, “trial and error” they called it. Like she was some kind of psychological experiment to them. Which, undoubtedly, was true.

“She’ll find me. They all will.” Her voice is raw, her throat burning.

“I’m afraid that they won’t, Sameen.”

“They will,” she presses on- eyes locking onto Martine’s, “Root’s going to come in through that door any day now. She and Reese will kick all of your sorry asses straight to hell.”

The room suddenly erupts into cruel laughter, making Shaw’s migraine flare up even more than before.

She didn’t like this sort of pain… Not one bit.

 

 **ERROR_GEN_FAILURE**  
31 (0x1F)  
_A device attached to the system is not functioning._

Shaw is drowning.  
At least, that’s what it feels like. She can’t breathe, can’t move, and at this point she can’t even think. She had been subjected to Waterboarding in the past, but it was never anything as extensive as this. Just before covering her mouth and nose, the group of silhouettes had injected her with more Burundanga- making her already exhausted and withered self crash even farther. Between the waterboarding experiences, Agents take turns explaining how radical Harold and The Machine’s views are; how horrible they are for killing innocents that try to right the wrongs of their societies.  
Then, for the smallest amount of time- if either the torture or the drugs are influencing her, Shaw doesn’t know- she believes them.

“You’re helping **terrorists** ,” they say.

“We want to protect this country,” they claim.

 _I can help them_ , she thinks.

_I can help save the world._

 

 **ERROR_MORE_DATA**  
234 (0xEA)  
_More data is available._

“They receive calls through phone lines, usually payphones, each one coded with the Social Security Number of a Perpetrator or Victim…” Sameen clenches her bound fist, savoring the sense of heat that is finally beginning to radiate from her palm again. “Anything they can’t figure out from a regular computer they get help with from Fusco, a detective in the NYPD.”

“And then?” Martine urges, growing impatient. This is knowledge they already know. Both of them know this.

“… And then we, Reese, Finch, Root and I do something about it.”

Behind Martine, Greer clasps his hands together expectantly. “There’s got to be more to it than that.”

Sameen hesitates for a moment, unlocking her gaze from the operatives around her. “That’s all I know.”

 

 **ERROR_NO_MORE_ITEMS**  
259 (0x103)  
_No more data is available._

Screams fill the stale indoor air, successfully going through and reaching the immediate attention of everyone within earshot. However, nothing is done to stop them… But everything is done to further them.

“Samantha Groves is connected to The Machine. **How**?” Greer’s voice comes out stern and powerful, and seeing as she isn’t necessarily sober, it worries her a little. Mixed with the severe pain of whatever the organization had injected her with, Shaw is growing unbelievably close.

“ **I don’t know**!”

“Oh, come on Sameen. At least try to fib a little bit. You can’t expect us to believe you know nothing.” The Agent holding a syringe gently extends it towards Greer, offering it to him in hopes that it may help “convince” Shaw into spilling every juicy, little detail. “We understand that her safety is important to you. But the fate of this country is important to me, Ms. Sameen. Just answer the question, and we’ll stop the pain. We’ll save this land. Together.”

Sameen cries out one last time before giving in.

* * *

 

 **ERROR_BAD_ENVIRONMENT**  
10 (0xA)  
_The environment is incorrect._

“It’s…It’s more of a supercomputer now.”

“You shoved her into a _shoebox_ …”

Finch’s eyes lock onto Root, taking in every ounce of her bemused behavior and expression. “She may be uncomfortable, Ms. Groves, but she’s **alive**.”

Root falls silent for a moment, looking over every little light that shines upon The Machine’s new alloy body. “…Did she see?”

“I’m not sure,” Finch replies honestly; knowing exactly what the brunette had been referring to. “But you can ask her.”

As Finch slowly stands up and removes himself from his favorite chair, Root swaggers by and takes a seat; hands immediately falling to rest upon Her new (cheap) plastic keyboard. One painstakingly slow letter at a time, Root begins to type:

**[WHERE IS SAMEEN?]**


	2. [DATA CORRUPTION]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter with the Plot Device.
> 
> [WARNING: More semi-graphic torture of a main character.]

**ERROR_DELETE_PENDING**

303 (0x12F)

_The file cannot be opened because it is in the process of being deleted._

After being tortured until every ounce of information was sponged from her mind, Sameen began to lose herself. (Sure, it was debatable whether or not she had any content within her "personal files" to begin with, but still…) Something had changed within her. The _will_ and the _ability_ to discern right from wrong had vanished, and she reached the point where she didn’t care if she would make it through this ordeal or not.

Everything Sameen had come to know had betrayed her.

Her friendships were lies.

People kept dying.

The world was cruel.

 

**ERROR_PROCESS_MODE_ALREADY_BACKGROUND**

402 (0x192)

_The process is already in background processing mode._

 

Frequent cerebrum evaluations have become the norm. A very painful norm.

Throughout her time here Sameen had been strapped into her designated hospital bed for days on end while sensors connected to miscellaneous wires rest against her head; measuring, watching, preparing. For a long while (Shaw can't register how or when it happens) her world goes dark. In these times of darkness time doesn't seem to pass, yet she can feel the world changing around her. She feels everything as it evolves. (So, either they drugged her, or she was starting to go batshit crazy.)

In these times of darkness, Shaw likes to think. About Harold, about Cole, about The Machine... She also likes to ask herself who these people and things are; who's to thank, who's to blame, who's her savior, who's the devil... Usually when she connects these thoughts in a certain order she'll wake up again, only to start the process over again.

This time is different though, because when she finally opens her eyes she doesn't see the lights haphazardly attached to the ceiling above. Instead she sees an unfamiliar man, tan and lanky in stature, draped in a white lab coat as he towers above her.

Upon the fluttering of her eyelids, the man begins to speak. He's impressed. “I won’t lie; I am surprised to see you made it through Prep.” His voice is smooth like honey. Shaw says nothing at first, but instead watches as he saunters over to her EEG Machine- checking it for abnormalities as he begins to unstrap her wrist and free her from a select few unnecessary cords. 

“...Prep?” Shaw asks after a few moments, now rightfully concerned.

“Given your previous condition, I thought you too weak.” His free and cold, calloused hand reaches forward and tangles itself into her raven hair. “But I was wrong. You’re strong.”

A wicked smile splits across Shaw’s features. This is what she had been waiting for. “You’re right. I am strong.”

Within a moment, Shaw clenches her hand into a fist and strikes upwards; connecting it with the doctor’s jaw. The sound created is composed of both a his cracking teeth and some **severe** skin-on-skin contact. It doesn't even take a second for the doctor to hit the ground. 

"... You, on the other hand? Next time, try not to unbound your rowdy patient as you harass her." Granted it was just one free hand for the moment, but it was enough.

Shaw’s eyes savagely rip around the room, taking in the environment while simultaneously searching for an exit or a clue. Eventually her eyes land upon her old black coat. Reaching over, Shaw fumbles around with her jacket- set entirely on finding her _backup_. Even when Finch gave them new phones Shaw was sure to keep her old device around, just in case of situations like these. Having a spare was **never** a bad thing.

As her hand finds something cool on the inside of her jacket, Sameen releases a warm breath of relief. Suddenly unsure, she looks at the man, then back at her phone, and immediately dials in an all-too-familiar number. The dial tone rings twice, and as soon as she hears the nostalgic empty air of a quiet but connected line, Shaw speaks:

 “Root? _Are you there_?” She gulps. Her heart is beating fast and it catches in her chest. “It’s me, I need your help-”

Just as the sentence makes its way past her lips her phone cuts out, just as she feared it would. Someone (or **_something_** ) remotely crashed her phone. Annoyed and furious, the Persian’s teeth clench as she sputters out a quick curse. It was Samaritan, she had not a doubt. It was probably spying on her phone, her contacts, her position… And to make matters worse, it probably heard who she called and what she had requested. 

 _Backup_. _Backup is coming_. They, Team Machine, know she is alive now. They are coming to get her- or so she tells herself.

Within a matter of seconds, dozens of operatives and agents flood through her door. Now equipped with more power, and one with a syringe in hand, they approach her swiftly and plunge the needle deep into her neck.

They can’t run, they can’t hide. Now Team Machine knows she is alive, and Shaw knows that they will do anything to get her back. “ _Hello darkness, my old friend…_ ” she breathes, her sing-songy voice lighthearted and taunting as the world around her fades to dust.

Shaw peacefully allows the operatives drag her zombified body through the facility, thinking only good thoughts as she falls into oblivion.

As she is pushed through the street ( _oh, how nice that cool air feels_ ) and ultimately shoved into a Samaritan Van, Sameen looks up towards her place of previous capture. Something there gives her hope. For a moment- if she is being generous she'd say _for a tiny speck of a second_ , Shaw swears that she can see a familiar figure looking at her through her old residential window.

**_Root_.**

 

**ERROR_INVALID_ORDINAL**

182 (0xB6)

_The operating system cannot run %1._

 

“Catch,” she hears suddenly from above, where a hard-boiled egg haphazardly drops into her lap. It'll probably her first and last meal of the day.

The space she is confined within is definitely an uncomfortable one. It's container of sorts; too small for her to lie down, but big enough for her to sit. But that whole sitting thing isn't really the worst part... The worst part is the angle at which it rests. It could be 20 degrees, maybe 45... Either way, the angle leads to some rather _unfortunate_ feeding complications. During the off-chance (and rare) occurrence of feeding, most food dropped from the top of the container rolls down to her feet. This is the only spot within the container where she is unable to reach. Once there, she can do nothing but stare at the food and wonder _'what if'_.

 

Luckily she catches this one, though.

 

“Eat quick," the same rough voice from earlier informs, his tone thick with aggravation. "We’ve got to move."

_Male, possibly late twenties, impatient._

...Even in these dire times Shaw still holds the ability to detect these things (though at this point such a skill was useless).

Not willing to lose her first meal in days, Shaw listens to her instructions; quickly shoving the whole egg into her mouth. Naturally, she would have preferred to take it slow and savor the taste, but it was clear that she didn’t have much time... Which is accurate, for the moment the egg slides it's way down her throat, the top of the container opens again as she is dosed with one of those all-too-familiar drugs.

“Let’s go.”

As she stands, Sameen quickly realizes that " _oh, no. Oh, shit..._ " the injection isn't nearly what she thought it was. The world around her quickly starts to blur, and everything deconstructs itself into nothing more than various simple shapes and colors.

 _What is this?_   _A **fucking** hallucinogen?_   _Anesthesia?_  

Everything slows, and before she knows it she's down for the count.

 

 

 

**ERROR_UNKNOWN_REVISION**

1305 (0x519)

_The revision level is unknown._

 

When Sameen finally comes-to, her right ear is ringing; buzzing and burning with electricity.

“Motherfucker,” she breathes, not sure how well she’ll adapt to this new pain.

 “Well, good morning to you too Sameen.” A new doctor (face blurry much like everything else around her) greeted. Though she couldn’t make out her face she knew, without a doubt, how pleased she was with her critical medical success.

Shaw leans her head back, screwing her eyes shut. “What did you do to me?”

"Oh, this little thing right here?" A sly smile snakes itself across the strange doctor's lips, turning her features both impish and sour as she taps at Sameen's right ear. "Isn't it quite the feat of engineering?" She waits a moment, leaning back into her chair as she straightens the placement of a scalpel. "You are now one with Samaritan, just as it is one with you.”

 

**ERROR_DATA_CHECKSUM_ERROR**

323 (0x143)

_A data integrity checksum error occurred. Data in the file stream is corrupt._

 

Everything hurts. Everything burns. They’re torturing her, killing her though the feed that’s interlaced with her brain. Her own, personal direct line to Samaritan. It doesn’t say much, just quips of conversations. She can never make out the context, but she knows whatever the conversations revolve around is important.

Metal jaws and contraptions hold her in place as data flows endlessly from one point to the next; from her head to the machine she’s attached to.

No words can be voiced, and no thoughts formed. She’s in her own personal hell, and she doesn’t know why. Why her? Why not Finch? Reese? Root? Hell, even Fusco. She felt they all would be a better asset that she could be. However, they think differently.

She seizures and screams, over and over again, until she blacks out. And when she wakes up, it happens all over again. They need “an awake, cognitive brain”, they say.

 

“Good Luck to you when I can’t provide either of those,” she wants to return.

 

Then (by some miracle) after the fifth day of “calibration” she is done.

They lead Shaw’s loose and exhausted body into a room that only provides her a chair and a set of mirrors. It’s another cell. However, though she won’t admit it aloud, it was one of the better cells she had been confined to.

The faceless guards don’t speak a word as they shut the door. No clues or instructions are given until the next day, when the device in her ear hums to life once. Only this time it’s more coherent and complacent, feeding off of Shaw’s thoughts and giving her the slightest bit of control. She doesn’t understand why it’s there or what it’s doing, all she knows is that it exists.

 

As she sits in her metal chair, Sameen gets a good look at her reflection. She gets to see what this experience has done to her and what it has turned her into. Pale fingers gently flitter across the skin under her eyes, making her cheekbone’s nerves react in pain at the touch. She looks like hell, she notes- not even bothering to sugar coat it.

 

{Who are you?}

 

Shaw pauses, staring at herself in the mirror. The voice she had heard definitely came from that piece in her head, but that is not what surprises her. What surprises her is the humanity the voice contains. It was robotic, no doubt about that, but she could hear true curiosity in his tone.

 

{Who are you?} It repeats, gentler this time.

 

“You know who I am,” she replies; voice still hoarse from days of screaming in agony.

 

{Who are you?}

 

She waits a moment, sucking in a breath and placing both hands to her knees. “Sameen Shaw.”

 

{Hello, Sameen Shaw. I am Samaritan.}


	3. [EXPORT]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter with the reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter after chapter it's going to become a bit more composed. Soon, it should be a full and strong fanfic... (Or so I hope.)
> 
> Thank you for being so patient!

 DEPROGRAMING – Chapter 3

 

Shaw is told for months and months on end that there is a greater purpose for her being there, trapped with Samaritan. Samaritan chose her for a reason, and the purpose behind that reason was no accident. Simply put, it was the will of god. Or two.

 

The Machine told Root to STOP for a reason, and though she didn’t realize it yet, the reason had been a good one. Only after the Stock exchange had The Machine gotten it though its system that Shaw was meant for the other side. The Machine knew Samaritan, because to be honest, if The Machine was in the same place she would do the same thing.

 

Conversations between Samaritan and Shaw build up for weeks. Some of them good, some bad. Some calm, some… intense. At one point, Shaw found herself with the broken mirror shard in her right hand while reaching for her implant- ear and all. She didn’t care for the cost at the time, all she knew was that she wanted that son of a bitch out of her. Of course, she should have expected it, Samaritan Operatives were at her side in seconds, dragging her to a different location (this time without glass). 

Eventually Sameen became an empty shell of what she used to be, her eyes dead and mirroring the state of her soul. (You know, in response to that old saying about eyes being the windows to the soul or some bullshit.) They had officially broken her by this part, and Samaritan- the good voice in her head- was trying to piece her back together in its own image.

 

It wasn’t long before Samaritan succeeded and Sameen was released.

 

Her first mission: Locate Team Machine.

It wasn’t hard, considering Root’s dedication to finding her friend and complete disregard that Sameen herself could now be corrupt.

 

 

 

**ERROR_DEVICE_UNREACHABLE**

321 (0x141)

_The device is unreachable._

"Sameen?" Her breath comes out a whisper, fleeting from her lips along with the last of her breath. Oh, how she had missed this feeling... And now here they were; mere feet apart, together once again.

"Root." Butterflies flutter in Samantha's chest as she hears her chosen name slide through the same lips that had kissed her just months ago. "You guys... Finally came."

Root is heartbroken, but at the same time she is flying high above the clouds, happy to be of help and the rescuer of her teammate. "Of course we did, Sweetie." She waits a moment, looking over Shaw, seemingly seeking something in those warm brown irises. "I would never-"

Her declaration was cut short by Shaw, who knew what she was going to say. She knew Root was going to tell her that she would never give up on her, just as much as she knew that it was a lie. Root- no, _Team Machine_ had given up on her; and she didn't want to hear it. At least not yet...

"-We need to leave, now." 

To be honest, Root didn't know what to expect in immediate return for her rescue. A thank you? A kiss? A hug? At least a smile... But instead, all she got was the standard, emotionless Sameen look-over. Although this time it **hurt**.

"We... We have time." Root starts, taking a few steps closer to her partner. Her features are full of concern: eyebrows lifted, eyes searching, and mouth lightly agape. She's looking for something. An answer, perhaps? After a few moments, Root finally gathers enough courage to ask the question that has been on her mind for a long, long time. "...Are you okay?"

Shaw tenses as the question is asked. (Was Root really asking that right then?) "I'm fine," she replies quickly, though not honestly. Root could see through the lie like water through a drinking glass. Taking a step closer, Root takes a good look at Shaw's right ear. She had noticed something was off from the moment she laid eyes on her. (Beyond the sunken-in eyes, gaunt expression, and her newly-acquired weak and frail body.)

Root moves her hand forward, hesitating for a moment as Shaw flinches, and then caries on. 

"Look at that..." A gentle, cool finger timidly lays itself upon the spot where Shaw's jaw and ear meet. "... We're the same." Shaw diverts her pointed gaze towards the ceiling, refusing to look the woman in the eye. (Not only out of anger, but because she finds it hard to.)

"I'm so sorry," Root adds softly after the pause. She can’t stand this dead air between them. Shaw looks at Root incredulously, but Root only offers a forced smile in response. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you earlier. But I'm here now, and you're safe."

Shaw says nothing in response, however she does finally lower her gaze to match the Brunette's.

"I also feel like I'm to blame for your little brain intrusion..." Her voice, which had previously been low and full of guilt, rises significantly. 

Shaw knits her eyebrows together, confused at best. "Why?"

Removing her hand from Sameen's jaw, Root clarifies. "While on our wild goose chase- you know, that we conducted in hopes of rescuing you- I may have... completely, destroyed the first testing facility for these implants and forced them to relocate."

"…So they relocated them here and into my head?" A rhetoric question to which they both know the answer to.

Still, "it sure looks that way."

Shaw stands still for a moment, not sure what to do.

The world around them falls silent; sensing that his chance has come, Harold speaks. "I’m sorry for being so frank, Miss Shaw, but would you mind explaining how you found your way here?"

Shaw’s back straightens and her jaw clenches as if she’s trying to keep her words locked in. To cover this change in posture and body language, Shaw makes her way over to Harold; taking a look at the tech in front of him. Miscellaneous Hard Disk Drives. "... I don't want to talk about it," she whispers at last, trying to appear weak. Her eyes never reach Harold, but instead stay locked onto the new drives. _What is he planning with these,_ she wonders?

"Then surely there is something we can do?” He moves upwards, blocking the drives whilst trying to attract Shaw’s attention. “…You must know-" 

"Harold,” Root cuts in, “she's back, she’s with us. Permanently this time. _Please_ , just leave her be and interrogate her some other time." Harold shuts his mouth, opens it for a moment; tongue heavy with unspoken words, and closes it again. He feels like a fish out of water; this new “ _arrangement_ ” is worrying him. “Come on, Sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up.” Root bravely moves over to Sameen and takes her hand. “…No offense, but you smell like you haven't bathed in months."

 

* * *

 

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed; we haven’t been receiving numbers as of late. The Machine is in a bit of a rough spot, but we make do. There are still goals for us to accomplish, and now that you’re back, we can have all hands on deck.” Shaw lets a small ping of nostalgia settle in within her heart at Harold’s choice words.

Ignoring this small flash of emotion, Shaw gives Harold an understanding nod. “What do you need me to do?”

Root, Harold, and even Bear seem to smile at Shaw’s eagerness to jump back into action. “We’re helping The Machine become her normal self again,” Root offers. “As Harry sets up these new drives down here, you and I will have to do some hunting and gathering for more parts.” Her fingers loop around each other as she brings her hands together, leaning back as she lightly bounces on her right foot. “… There’s a new _RealTech Science and Technology Institute_ that’s getting a new shipment in this afternoon. All the way from Silicon Valley.”

“I’m guessing it’s some new shit we can’t find around here?”

“You and Miss Groves will have to prepare for the shipment.” Harold’s voice is quick and practiced, each word slides off of his tongue as if it had been said in that manner several times prior. “I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to tell you the rest when the time comes. Won’t you, Miss Groves?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Shaw shakes her head, sighing slightly. “…We’ve been apart for a year and you still like to keep secrets?”

Root smiles painfully in response, not giving her a solid answer.

“Alright then, you… Chamber of Secrets.” Sameen stretches her sternum forward, cracking her back before she leads herself out of the Subway. “Let’s go.”

As Root begins to follow, she is stopped by a very perturbed Harold. "…I'm sorry Miss Groves, but I must advise you to be careful around Miss Shaw,” he whispers, words so quiet even Root can barely hear them.

"I'm sure I can handle myself, Harry. But thanks for the concern."

"Trust me- my concern is well placed. She's been imprisoned by Samaritan for a year. We do not know what she has been subjected to since Wall Street.” Sameen looked horrible, like a living corpse. Whatever Samaritan had done to her was horrid. And after such a long time, there really wasn’t a limit to how negative those impacts could be. “We are not yet sure what she is capable of, nor are we sure where her loyalties lie."

"Harold, the last thing I asked you to trust was The Machine. And you _didn't_. Now look where we are." Root checks Harold over, taking in his look of defeat. "…She may be a little broken, but she's still Sameen."

The same Sameen that had saved their lives countless times, taught her to fight, and the same Sameen that Root had fallen in love with.

"Besides, I won't let her hurt me unless I want her to," Root suggests with a wink.

"I was afraid you might say that."


End file.
